


Finding Home

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River was adrift, without anchor to ground her. Most rivers were grounded, but this River was not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "homelessness" box on my [hc_bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) card and the [Summer challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/rayne_shippers/1309606.html) on the LJ community "rayne_shippers." I had received prompt #45.

_T'is moonlight, summer moonlight  
All soft and still and fair;  
The solemn hour of midnight  
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere; _  
\- Emily Bronte

River had once loved summertime. Breezy dresses with the skirts swirling about her legs, hot summer sun shining on her face, long hours to read and play and dance and enjoy all the different facets of the 'verse. She had been innocent then, and hadn't thought of those days in a long time.

The crew of _Serenity_ stopped on Lilac to deliver a package, and Kaylee had requested some downtime after the delivery was made. She had smiled widely at Simon, and he had flushed and grown uncomfortable. It was fairly obvious what Kaylee had in mind for him, and the crew got a good laugh out his discomfort. He was still prim and proper about some things, even if he had gotten better about others.

River wandered away from the bazaar in the village and away from the hotel where Kaylee and Simon would rent their room. It was summer on Lilac, and beautiful and wondrous kind of summer that took the breath away and made the spirits soar.

Only, River couldn't feel it. She was adrift somehow, no anchor to ground her. It was just as well she had some skill as a pilot; she had nowhere she was comfortable. A river was grounded, but this River was not. She moved through the empty streets, until they petered out at the end of town. Night would fall soon enough, but she felt no draw to return to the ship. The others all had places to be, things to see.

River sat beneath the gnarled oak tree at the edge of a field. It might have been a park once, but no one had taken care of it. The grass grew wild and long, and the tree had grown twisted in the wind. Others had fallen, but this one had remained. She looked up at the stars beginning to twinkle in the Lilac sky, and could pick out which ones were worlds, which ones were stars and which ones were black rocks.

She heard the rustle of the grass before she could see the vague shape that was doing the rustling. River shut her extra senses down; people didn't like it if she Read things, and Simon was always cautioning her not to upset the locals when she left the ship. Everyone else was busy, so it had to be a local.

Jayne stepped into view and sat down on the ground beside her. "You c'n be hard to track if ya want to be," he mentioned casually. "That's sayin' something, given I'm a tracker an' all.

"Why did you track me? We're not leaving the world yet," River asked, still looking up at the sky. One of the other worlds hung low in Lilac's sky and looked like a full moon. "Even the captain hasn't done something silly yet."

"You didn't look right."

River turned to look at him sharply. _"Shénme?"_

"You don't talk so funny anymore. That makes it easier to notice, actually," Jayne said casually, pulling up a long blade of grass. "I figgered I'd see what happened."

"Nothing happened."

"Tracking, you see," Jayne continued as if River had never spoken, "is an art. I guess like piloting and Reading and whatever science-y stuff you talk about. There's an art to things, especially something _zhēn tāmā yàomìng_ like talkin' to you."

"I'm not something dangerous. Not anymore."

Jayne laughed, and River looked away. It hadn't been mean laughter, but the laughter of someone that was genuinely amused. "Oh, they think you aren't. Mebbe _you_ even think you aren't. But I know better."

River's expression shuttered and she stared up at the low hanging moon in Lilac's sky. "You think I'm a weapon still. A creature of triggers and no mind to direct the blow."

"See now, you say it like it's a bad thing," Jayne replied reasonably. "The others? They never fought ya when you was triggered. I did. And they can make fun all they want, but I know different. You know why I ain't dead yet, moonbrain?" River turned back to him and shook her head. "'Cause I respect weapons. I treat 'em right, and they treat me right. I don't throw 'em around and bang 'em up if I don't think they don't work no more. I still take 'em apart and clean 'em out and treat 'em right. Because one day, they'll see fit to work again, and one day, I want 'em going off in the right direction."

Fascinated, River looked at Jayne with wide eyes. "And that is?"

"Away from me, of course," he replied with a smirk.

River couldn't help it. She laughed right along with him.

"So's you had some rough days," he said after a moment. "What triggered it?"

River looked at him sharply. "Why?"

"I tole ya already, moonbrain. I know you was listening." He seemed almost impatient with her, which was an unusual turnaround. Usually she was the one impatiently trying to explain herself to others because they couldn't understand her complicated speech patterns. Since Miranda and the fallout with the Alliance, she had been making a concerted effort to normalize those patterns. The others had accepted it, that one secret purged from her mind had made things of a more even keel within her mind. She was mostly sane again, definitely safe, and a treasured part of the crew. She was family.

She didn't want to shatter the illusion.

"They all belong somewhere," she said quietly, fingers threaded together in her lap. "They know where they should be. I lack such certainty."

Jayne looked at her, his head tilted slightly to the side. "You belong here, moonbrain. Ain't no different than before."

"There is only drift," she replied softly, shaking her head. "Would I tell the truth and have them fear me? Fear for me? I can't hurt them that way."

"Where you gonna go?" he asked just as quietly. "We're your family, you know that."

River lifted her eyes up to his. "Are you really?"

"Mebbe. If you want me to be." Jayne reached out and cautiously grasped her hand. "If you can stand the mess I am."

She could feel everything he was referring to beneath his skin. The knowledge swam behind her eyes, and she could almost feel nonsense words begin to tumble from her lips. But she kept them shut tight. Jayne understood this kind of loneliness, the feeling of being without an anchor. She couldn't lose that.

"I'm a mess as well," River murmured. "But I'm the kind that destroys things. Destroys lives. I wouldn't be a burden to you with this."

Her eyes flew open at the feel of his fingers brushing across her lips. "You ain't no burden, moonbrain," he told her, voice soft. His touch was light, a ghostly presence. River drew the pad of his finger into her mouth, touching it with her tongue to see if it was truly real. She wouldn't have been surprised if it wasn't, but she could taste the salt of his skin and trace the shape of it with her tongue. Jayne's breath hitched for a moment, and he looked at her steadily. "Don't start nothin' you don't intend to finish."

"I would build a home if I could," River said softly. "If I knew how to do such a thing, if I was capable of more than pain."

Jayne shifted position so that he was nearly kneeling beside her. "You ain't just pain, moonbrain."

"You don't call me that in jest any longer. Why is that?"

"That's delicate," he said, moving to stand. "So's your brain. Fits just right, don't it?"

River looked up at him with large eyes, then moved to stand in front of him. "You think me delicate? But I'm not so fragile as that."

Jayne ran his hands along her bare arms and watched her shiver. "In some things, you are."

"Would you break me?" River asked in a whisper. "Would you rebuild me afterward?"

"No need to break nothing," Jayne murmured, moving to cup her face in his hands. "You're just right as you are, right where you are. You just needed to find your way."

Their kiss was soft, like the flutter of butterfly wings against skin. River imagined that this was how moonlight felt, this was how foundations were laid. She looked at Jayne, a flush along her cheeks. It wasn't the kiss that made her suddenly shy, but the wild thoughts just beneath the surface of his mind. Eyes locked to his, River couldn't help but smile. She wasn't a girl in his thoughts, no matter what he might say aloud. There, she was sensual and fluid, a woman in every way. He saw beyond the measure of her broken words, between the cracks that she carefully tried to glue back together.

River laced her fingers though his. "You're right," she agreed, a sliver of smile on her face like a crescent moon. "I have found my way. To you."

This was home, then. _He_ was home. This was what belonging felt like.

The End.


End file.
